


Lalli's Arm Needs Fixing

by wavewright62



Category: City of Hunger (Video Game)
Genre: Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship, Cyborgs, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Or maybe more than friendship, Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 00:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14630108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wavewright62/pseuds/wavewright62
Summary: Cyborgs rarely get injured badly enough to seek medical attention outside the collective.  One young medic, new to the planet and its prejudices, offers to help.





	Lalli's Arm Needs Fixing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lunarium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/gifts).



> I admit that I heavily referenced the images Minna Sundberg posted on the [CoH blog of 25 April](http://www.hummingfluff.com/?id=devlog&postin=26) in putting this story together, specifically the second drawing on the page.

**_Prologue_ **

NC12A couldn’t let her eyes linger on the departures board. However, it would also look suspicious if she didn’t look at it at all, even though she could read it perfectly well with her back turned. She had to look the part, and she searched her memory for a pattern which would fit her faked identity biometrics. She had to look like a student travelling on the bargain run. She took the repurposed comms unit out of her pocket and held it up as though reading it, then allowed herself a cursory and offhand look at the departures. Gate 4-North was leaving first. She could not allow herself the luxury of accessing any data on the destination, and the name was not familiar.

She began to turn away when she heard the security channel engage, and saw the officer behind her at the airlock exit pick up his comms unit. NC12A passed her finger over the surface of her comms unit, bringing up the stored video of kissing boys to play on the surface to deflect any prying eyes, while she cautiously opened the lowest power channel in her unit to interface with the security system.

 _So._ Her absence had been discovered, too soon. Her NC-series biometrics profile filled the security system screen. There was no mention of the clones.

She lazily picked up the knapsack from the floor and swung it nonchalantly over her shoulder, still seemingly staring at the comms unit. Her systems were still sluggish from the massive dose of implantation hormones, aiding her disguise. Walking as slowly as she dared, she adjusted the refraction pattern on her ‘hair’ filaments, changing them from the default whitish to a medium brown. She correspondingly set the ‘iris’ array in her eyes to their darkest setting, a deep brown. There was no help for her skin and its natural pallor – or was there? She allowed some of the hair filaments to discreetly penetrate the flawless skin of her face. She hoped the series of red pinpricks on her cheeks looked convincingly like acne.

She had reached the gate – a dangerous point in her plan. It was time to test the hacked biometric data, and she had to be logged in to the system to effect check-in. This would leave her vulnerable to the collective mind. She paused for a moment to calm her heartrate as much as she could. She worked hard to gain her independence; her will would not fail her now. The security channel was buzzing now with messages. She had to pass as a natural, and she’d spent very little time around natural humans; she hadn’t given any thought to what to say. A queue was forming behind her, and she picked up the heightened temperature readings on their faces.

Then it occurred to her, she was natural enough, most of her internal organs were indeed natural. NC12A placed a hand on her belly briefly before presenting her comms unit to the scanner. Logged off and operating independently, she could pass, but logged in? The attendant at the portal didn’t even look twice at her as he opened the knapsack to scan it for contraband. She licked her lips; she could see from his readout that they were looking for the portable clone transport unit, as well as the usual contraband chemicals. It was well that she had taken the precaution of getting rid of the stolen clone unit. The portal slipped open to allow Kaino Hotakainen, student, access to the departure gate.

NC12A frowned briefly at the pattern coloured into the surface of the ship visible through the porthole – it looked like a long-necked bird. A quick scan of the database brought up an entry identifying it as a ‘swan,’ an aquatic bird. Ah, so this ship was going to an aquatic planet, then, good enough. Not that it mattered, any planet would have sufficed. She logged off her connection quickly, hoping she had not been detected.

She settled into her capsule, barely daring to breathe as she stowed her knapsack and prepared to secure her body into the ship’s life support system. She settled back into the pod and laid her hand on her belly again. _Well, my boys,_ she addressed the two clone zygotes designated JH and JK, _we’re on our way._

NC12A wasn’t like the other cyborgs, she had had a measure of awareness of herself apart from the system since her body was still immature. She could act and think for herself if she concentrated very hard, and become quite proficient at it. She learnt how to conduct discreet searches of the database for information on the naturals and their lives. As her independent intellect developed she could begin to imagine herself living that sort of life, even if the naturals spent most of their time logged onto the system anyway. She began to gather data for an escape plan.

Like most of the cyborgs, her reproductive apparatus was left intact. The planetary authorities made a tidy income from harvesting genetic material from its cyborg workers, and cloning the human zygotes for ‘adoption’ for childless naturals, or to other planetary systems as settlers, workers or cyborgs. When NC12A discovered the whereabouts of some of her own genetic material, she finalised her escape plan, and succeeded in stealing four clones of a fertilised zygote and a portable zygote transport unit. The final piece in the puzzle had been securing a doctor willing to implant the clones into her body without registering the transaction onto the system. The price the doctor would get for the portable clone unit on the black market would more than cover her fee. “Congratulations,” she had said, “two of them have implanted successfully. You’re pregnant.” The doctor had smiled wanly at her while she explained the possible side-effects of the hormones; instead of the usual graduated administration of the hormones, the cyborg had had to take a large dose, quickly. As NC12A left the clinic, the doctor wished ‘Kaino’ luck and pressed two pale blue baby suits into her hands. 

It never occurred to NC12A as she ‘slept’ in stasis that the life support system would register three heartbeats instead of one. The security system on the destination planet was duly notified and dispatched to meet the ship on its arrival. Fortunately for Ensi Hotakainen, as she was later known, the gang running the spaceport security always had need for cyborg operatives who wanted to avoid the scrutiny of the authorities. Or, perhaps, unfortunately.

-^v-^v-^v-^v-^v-^v-^

“No, I’m sorry, the technical doctor who deals with _your kind_ is not here.” The duty intern crossed his arms over his chest and looked down his nose at the injured cyborg seated in the intake area. The cyborg looked very small with his slender legs folded up underneath him on the bench, supporting his injured arm with his good arm. His companion had draped his jacket over him to keep the drafts off his head and neck, but the injured one’s teeth were still chattering as shudders passed through his body.

The large blond cyborg accompanying the injured one scowled at the ‘your kind’ and remonstrated with the doctor, “So when will he be back? How long do we have to wait?” Having shed his jacket, the cyborg’s sleeveless tunic and bare metallic arms contrasted strongly with the thick thermal uniforms of the doctor and other staff of the medical centre.

“ _She_ will be back sometime tomorrow,” the doctor sniffed. “Just pipe some silicon caulking in there until then.”

“I suppose you think that’s funny,” the blond cyborg growled, “but our employer doesn’t share your sense of humour.” He laid a shining hand on the doctor’s arm to stop him turning away. The doctor reflexively recoiled in horror from both the cyborg hand and the mention of his employer, his eyes flicking to the gang insignia on his vest.

The security guard sauntered over and stood next to the doctor, ostentatiously adjusting his belt to better show off his firearm. “Who ever heard of a mouthy cyborg?,” he sneered. “Maybe you’re an _off-grid_ cyborg, hah? Does your hive mother know you’re off-grid, little borg?”

The large cyborg flicked his pale grey eyes over the security guard, a flickering data readout momentarily visible. Changing tack, he gestured at the smaller cyborg sitting impassively on the bench, “My brother is in real pain, is there nothing you can do for him?”

The doctor huffed, “Dammit, I’m a doctor, not a mechanic. We’re not prepared to deal with machinery.”

“I suggest you listen to the doctor,” the security guard drawled, “and this clinic is neutral territory, not a gang house.”

“I just want some medical treatment for him, why is this such a problem,” the large cyborg held out his arms in frustration. The arms reflected the few working ceiling lights in their shining surface.

“Um, I think I might be able to look at it?” A slender medic with tousled red hair hesitantly had raised his hand as he peered past the duty doctor and security guard. The doctor frowned, but gave a curt nod before shooting the cyborgs a fearful glance and walking away quickly. The young medic shifted uneasily from foot to foot. “What, ahh, seems to be the trouble?”

“He fell into a crevasse,” the large blond cyborg replied. He crossed his metallic arms and shot the security guard a look, but the guard didn’t move on. “He took out two biggish spiders on the way down.” He lifted his chin in pride, but the smaller one did not look up.

The red-haired medic gestured to the injured cyborg to follow him, and he unfolded himself to rise from the bench. Holding his arm gingerly, he began to follow the medic. The large one started to follow, but the security guard stopped him. “ _Patients_ only,” the guard sneered.

The large blond cyborg snorted but stayed in the intake area. “I have patience,” he muttered as he stood against the wall, arms folded, “I have sisu.” Louder but to no one in particular, he said, “I’ll just wait here.” He found himself staring upward at the dropped ceiling, which was missing a few tiles, leaving ductwork visible and sundry wiring hanging down. The electrical drone part of the cyborg took over his consciousness, and unbidden the data analysis of the wiring and electrical flow started flowing across his retinal screens.

-^v-^v-^v-^v-^v-^v-^

Down the corridor, the red-haired medic looked down to see if the smaller cyborg was still following him. _He moves so silently, I can’t tell if he’s still there,_ he thought. Aloud he said, “I’m Reynir Árnason. I’m new to the facility. I don’t really know that much about the ahh, circuitry and things, but I can look at the connections to the ahhh, natural part. Of your body.” The silent figure was not even acknowledging Reynir, so he just kept chattering as he reached a cubicle and ushered the cyborg in, “The organic part of your body, I mean.”

The cyborg did not reply, but winced slightly as he gingerly brought the wrist of his injured arm up to the panel next to the examining table. The implant scanned, bringing data onto the diagnostic screen as he sat on the table. He waited impassively, shivering, while Reynir read the data, fastened on a mask, and changed his leather gloves for surgical ones.

“Lalli Hotakainen?” Reynir looked to the cyborg to confirm; Lalli nodded. “Well, Lalli, let me see what we can do for you.” He glanced at the thermostat unit hanging impotently out of its hole in the cubicle’s wall. “I’m sorry I can’t make it any warmer for you.” He gently moved aside the jacket covering Lalli’s shoulder and arm, letting it fall off onto the table. Apologising, Reynir reached around Lalli to retrieve the jacket and awkwardly draped it over his head and non-injured shoulder again. He didn’t see the cyborg’s eyes flicker slightly, running over his red hair.

Reynir kept up his chatter as he tenderly examined along the edges of the torn interface of Lalli’s arm. “Of course, it’s probably plenty warm if you’re used to Outside.” He apologised softly as he started cleaning the torn flesh, eliciting an inadvertent hiss of pain from Lalli. “It’s kind of funny, but on my home world the place I come from is _called_ Iceland, but it’s _nothing_ like the ice here. I mean, we have glaciers and volcanoes and that, but I somehow got the idea that this planet was kind of warmer than home.” At least his patient’s shuddering had stopped. The readout showed his heartrate stabilising as well; his shock might be wearing off. How long had the poor guy been out there? “Now, how long ago was the accident? I mean, what time? Your brother said you fell into a crevasse taking out some spiders.” He suppressed a shudder. Reynir had still only seen video images of the infamous spiders Outside, but that was enough to spook him.

Lalli spoke for the first time. “He’s not my brother.”

“What?” Reynir was taken aback at the sound of Lalli’s human voice, musical and surprisingly deep coming from such a slight body. "But he said-"

Lalli continued looking at the floor. “Our fathers were clones. Not the same person.”

“Oh.” Reynir quite forgot his original question as he got materials out of the cabinet next to the examining table. “I can’t do anything about any mechanical issues, but I can at least fix the interface,” he said as he readied a syringe. Lalli stared impassively from under the coat’s drape. Thinking that Lalli’s gaze was for the syringe, Reynir was quick to say, “this is just an anaesthetic, you’ll just feel some pulling, okay?”

-^v-^v-^v-^v-^v-^v-^

Lalli was interfaced into the system while Reynir was talking, receiving instruction from the hive mind for his nanobot array, which was already working on the mechanical and electronic parts in his arm. The gaps at the torn sites were too large for the nanobots to traverse. The hive mind agreed that Lalli should receive medical attention for the organic portions, allowing the nanobots to finish the connections. He closed his eyes as the chattering medic began carefully placing collagen biomimic mesh into the torn areas, while keeping a supporting hand on his shoulder.

 _He has very gentle hands,_ Lalli thought to himself, the private part of his self that was not part of the cyborg collective. He wasn’t used to being touched at all, let alone so gently. _Is this how naturals touch?_

-^v-^v-^v-^v-^v-^v-^

He had inherited the ability to detach himself from the hive mind from his progenitor Ensi. His ability wasn’t as strong as hers, he only rarely allowed himself to completely log off, but he preferred to keep a small human consciousness carefully hidden. Onni, on the other hand, was stronger and more accustomed to parading his personality, like a natural. The gang knew about this ability in Ensi’s genetic line but tolerated it, so long as it served their purposes. Their tolerance was not infinite. Eleven years prior had been one such occasion, and the backlash was swift and brutal. They had all become separated and scattered, with no knowledge within the hive of the whereabouts of all units from Ensi’s line. Onni had gone offline long enough to stay with the immature Lalli until he could reconnect safely, but as for the others, whether they had been killed, wiped, or moved to a different system, was not recorded.

-^v-^v-^v-^v-^v-^v-^

As pleasurable as the exotic-looking medic’s touch was, his chattering in his strange accent was distracting Lalli.

“So your fathers were clones, I guess that’s like identical twins, because those are like clones too, from a single zygote or something. So, yeah, you wouldn’t be brothers, you’d be, like, cousins or something.” Reynir kept half an eye on the panel as he painstakingly connected the mesh matrix to the arm. By the time he was wrapping the arm in mesh to seal the interface area, the readings on Lalli were stabilising. “This mesh should give enough of a stable matrix to allow your nanobots to finish reconnecting the electronics to the organics while they heal." Lalli nodded. "Once I get this stitched up, were the any other injuries? Any place a spider may have gotten you that I should look at?”

Lalli opened his eyes as he considered this. _Scanning._ He shook his head hesitantly, but then cocked his head to one side as he considered the other bruised and battered portions which had been ignored. Onni’s coat fell off his head again. “Maybe,” he said. He extended his leg and looked down at the long rip along the pant leg.

“Okay, let’s have a look,” Reynir motioned for Lalli to take off his pants. Lalli started to comply, but then Reynir shook his head. “Sorry, sorry, not with your arm. I’ll do it.” Lalli slid off the bed to allow his pants to fall after his belt was undone. He huffed a little at the movement, prompting Reynir to remind him, “Maybe you’re getting stiffer from the inactivity. The subsiding of the shock would also leave you more vulnerable to the pain.”

Reynir whistled softly to himself as Lalli’s pants came down and he delicately stepped out of them. His cyborg legs were similar to his arms, gleaming burnished metal in the dim light of the cubicle. But then Reynir noticed a rainbow sheen. “Is that…titanium? Where did you get malleable titanium?” Lalli shrugged a little, with a slight smile, but did not reply.

Reynir couldn’t resist running his hand along Lalli’s leg, saying, “Malleable titanium, and warm, too. Wow. I mean, I’ve heard about how this stuff is run on the black…,” he remembered who Lalli’s employer was a beat too late, “market.” He looked up in chagrin, but Lalli still had on a vaguely pleasant expression as he gazed down at the medic. As Reynir looked up into Lalli’s eyes, he could briefly detect a blue flicker of data reeling inside in Lalli’s large eyes. He also realised he had his hand rather high up a man’s thigh, even if it was a cyborg limb. It might register as… He gulped softly and removed the hand.

Lalli sighed slightly and looked away. “I make modifications when I can.”

“You made these yourself? They’re very nice work,” Reynir nodded. “But, no chance of spider stings here, then.” He traced his finger along a deep scratch on the surface of the leg where Lalli’s pant leg had been sliced. “If this had been an organic leg, you might even have lost the leg from the hit it took.” He realised Lalli had his eyes on him again. He raised his eyes to meet Lalli’s, and once again the slight blue flicker of data was visible.

Lalli looked down at the huge green eyes of the medic. He had never seen eyes so green, that were not modified. He didn’t have any data screens installed. How did he manage to do any diagnostics without data retrieval? “How do naturals do anything without assistance,” he found himself blurting out.

Reynir grinned. The students at the Academy back in Reykjavik had had this discussion many times; a pleasant memory of warm drinks and earnest fellowship. “We invent machines to do our work for us. Other than that, we get along as we have for millions of years, using what we have.”

“Give me your hand,” Lalli asked, holding out his hand. Reynir hesitantly complied. Frowning, Lalli took off the medical glove and with his good hand began examining Reynir’s naked hand, turning it over delicately and running scans on different wavelengths. “I will modify my hands to be as gentle as yours,” he stated as he stored the scans in the data feed.

Reynir stared as Lalli ran slender fingers over and over his hand. Although the sensation was undoubtedly pleasant, he was suddenly self-conscious about his pale freckled skin. “Your, ahhh, hands are plenty gentle already, I must say,” was all he could think to say.

Suddenly he was embarrassed on behalf of the cyborg calmly standing before him mostly naked, and embarrassed about his own curiosity about the cyborg’s other modifications. _Professional, Reynir._ He put his glove back on as he backed away. Putting away the suturing materials, he asked Lalli to please put his clothes back on. He became doubly embarrassed when Lalli couldn’t use his injured hand properly, and Reynir was obliged to help him close his pants again. He had to keep chanting the word ‘professional’ to himself, ignoring the blue data flicker regarding him. "Normally a wound like this will take several weeks to heal, with the nerves taking longer," he said, "but I understand the nanobot technology will speed that up considerably." 

Lalli gave a small nod in reply. In truth, his data feed was already filled with reports on the nanobots' progress, with several sectors in his arm already reconnected. Once again fully dressed, he reached into the pocket of his vest and solemnly held out a small parcel to Reynir. It was a full square of complete meal ration block, unopened.

Reynir licked his lips nervously. “Thank you _very much_ but no,” he folded both his hands around Lalli’s outstretched hand, enclosing the precious ration and pushing it gently back toward the slender cyborg, “they feed the medics, it’s okay. You’d better keep it, the protein will help you heal.”

Looking down at Reynir’s hands enclosing his, Lalli leaned in close to whisper into Reynir’s ear. “Reynir Árnason,” Reynir could hear a slight whirring somewhere, “We will pay our debt.”

Reynir pulled away and hurriedly removed his hands from Lalli’s. “Well, ummm, you do that at the counter on your way out, you don’t pay _me.”_

Lalli regarded him with cool grey eyes, with no data flicker. “I will not forget.” He left the room quickly, leaving Reynir stunned, standing awkwardly in the center of the cubicle.

**Author's Note:**

> Perhaps there will be more chapters and this relationship will develop further, but I haven't planned any more at this stage.
> 
> I beg Lunarium's apologies, I ended up putting some of your specific DNWs in there. *tears hair in chagrin* I really got caught up in the illustration and did some replotting and then did more thinking about cyborgs and added more and and *hangs head* I'm very sorry for including O and a form of U-P in there.
> 
> Deleted scene: The security guard comes through the waiting area and gapes at the blond cyborg with his head inside a gap in the ceiling tiles, shooting tiny blue lasers from his eyes as he works on the electrical connections. By the time Lalli is released from his cubicle, it's lit up brighter than when both moons are full in the sky. The staff are milling around, looking with wonder at the pristine row of softly humming lights in the corridor. The receptionist, who has been complaining about the lights for two years, just waves them through without taking payment.


End file.
